


Ox and Tango

by MissLuci



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28074207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLuci/pseuds/MissLuci
Summary: Spike and Buffy are demon hunters for hire living in the California town of San Francisco.  They receive a call from the owner of a dance studio about a string of unusual robberies.  Uncertain whether demons are involved, they nevertheless agree to help.  After agreeing to tango lessons from the charismatic dance instructor, Spike and Buffy uncover the mystery and renew their bond as only a master vampire and a slayer can.
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Ox and Tango

**Author's Note:**

  * For [touchstoneaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchstoneaf/gifts).



> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Spike banged on the bathroom door. "Hey, pet?"

No answer. Buffy was known for taking long showers and even longer soaks in the tub. She was always happy when he joined her, but this was business and they needed to consult. He knocked again to no avail so he decided to go in, hoping Buffy was almost done.

Spike was of the opinion that if he could no longer see the caller ID on the screen, the phone was muted so he checked to make sure his hand covered the screen before he turned to his wife. "Hey, Slayer?"

"Mmmm, yeah?" Buffy arched her back and stretched, her perky breasts lifted out of the water, dislodging a cascade of bubbles, leaving the perfect globes open to his hungry gaze.

A low growl rumbled in Spike’s throat as he dropped to his knees beside the tub. "God, you're gorgeous. Give me those tits. Just a little taste." Spike nibbled her ear and nuzzled her neck. "Please, baby, one lick."

"You're way too dressed. Fix that pesky clothing problem and get your sweet ass in here with me. Then you can have a lot more than a taste."

"God, yes! But first, we have to take this call." Spike held up the phone.

"Spike…? Is there someone on the phone?"

"Yeah, but they're muted, see?" He showed her the screen, completely covered by his hand.

Buffy groaned and sunk back into the tub until the bubbles nearly covered her face. "You adorable dork, how many times do I have to tell you that's not how you mute a smartphone?"

Spike looked at the phone, then back to Buffy’s pink cheeks. "Well, seems logical. Smart phones aren't all that smart if you ask me."

"Tell me that's not a new client."

"It's not a new client."

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, then they already know we're quirky. Who is it?"

"Uh, I didn't catch his name. Said it was important though."

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"It's a new client, isn't it?"

"Maybe."

Buffy rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. "Well, put them on speaker so we can both talk."

Spike uncovered the screen and pressed the speaker button, carefully turning the phone face away from the tub.

"They can't see me, silly."

"Not taking any chances, am I?"

Spike addressed the back of the phone. "You still there, Mr...?"

"Yes, and you can call me Mack. After that adorable exchange, I am now even more convinced you are the perfect couple for the job." He answered with amusement.

Buffy chose to ignore the tease. "We appreciate the opportunity, sir. May I ask what kind of job?"

"Yes, Miss..."

"I'm Buffy. You've already met my partner, Spike; who needs at least one more lesson on the use of a smartphone." She stuck her tongue out at her technologically challenged vampire.

Spike gave her a two finger salute, then flicked his tongue between his fingers with a lascivious grin. 

Buffy rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a smile.

Spike blew her a kiss.

The man on the phone continued, oblivious to the interplay between the two. "Very well. So, Buffy, as I was telling your partner, I run a small dance studio. Give lessons, occasional recitals. I have a very diverse clientele. Most of the time everyone gets along quite well, but I wouldn't want any cross-species accusations flying about if someone took such a notion. I would like the investigation to remain discrete. I'm sure you understand?"

"Yes." Buffy and Spike answered in unison.

"Lately several of my students have....misplaced...some of their more valuable jewelry."

Spike raised an eyebrow at Buffy before asking the obvious. "When you say misplaced, you mean these things have been stolen?"

"I believe so. The strange thing is, this happens as they are leaving, yet no one sees a thing. Most of them don't notice they are missing pieces until later."

"How do you know it's happening at your studio then?" Asked Buffy.

"I'm not completely certain."

"If no one sees anything and they don't remember where their jewelry went missing in the first place, it might not have anything to do with you."

"I understand. But I’m positive there’s something here. I’ve felt as if I’m being watched lately. It’s a benevolent presence though and I haven’t actually seen anything, but I’m convinced it has something to do with the losses my students are experiencing. It pains me to know that they are losing their valuables near my establishment. Whatever it is must be close by. Can you please try to find whatever it is?"

"Of course, Mack. We will do our best." Buffy agreed.

"Great! I have a new class starting tonight at 7 o'clock. It's Argentine Tango, so wear loose fitting clothes and comfortable shoes."

Buffy sputtered. "Uh…"

"Don't worry, this first class will be basic techniques and holds. Easy stuff. See you at seven! We’ll talk after class. Bye now!!"

He hung up before Buffy could say anything else. 

Spike was grinning from ear to ear.

Buffy glared at him as she leaned over to pull the drain plug. "Why do I get the feeling I've been set up?"

"Not a set up. This was a legitimate call."

"You've been trying to get me to take dance lessons for years and out of the blue, this call comes in? I'm supposed to believe it's a coincidence?" Buffy stood up. "Hand me a towel, please."

Spike grabbed one of the large fluffy towels, wrapped it around her slightly soapy form, and lifted her from the tub. "Not coincidence, love, it's kismet." 

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Kiss what?"

"Serendipity, fate, the alignment of the stars, it's our destiny...OW! Bloody hell! That hurt!" Spike rubbed his backside as he followed Buffy to their room.

"Spike! It's already past 4 o’clock. We have to be there by seven and I don't know what to wear. Stop messing around and help me."

Spike flopped on the bed and resigned himself to being a fashion consultant for the next two hours.

Buffy had settled on a black skirt in soft polyester that flowed gently over her hips and a pair of black low heeled boots. Her top was a simple red sleeveless shell trimmed in lace. Spike was dressed in a dark blue button up shirt, charcoal grey slacks and his least scuffed pair of boots. Because the dance studio was in the theatre district, about two miles from their Leavenworth Street apartment building, they decided to walk.

Shutting the door on their flat and pocketing the keys, Spike offered Buffy his arm. He saw her glance back towards the building and smile fondly. He knew she loved their new digs and even though the living area had several large floor length windows courtesy of the Queen Anne style turret, it faced north, making it safe for Spike on all but the brightest days. Buffy loved to gather up her research papers along with a large mug of coffee and sit in the window seat overlooking the city. San Francisco was a lovely place, but they spent a lot of time in the gritty underbelly chasing demons, so it was easy to become disillusioned with the beauty around them. The view from their windows presented such a different picture on high. They’d lucked into the posh rental after helping the owner of the building with a particularly nasty rat problem that had sprung up, seemingly overnight. Buffy was sure it had demon origins, but was never able to find the root cause. Tenants had complained when the rodents had begun wandering the halls and sitting in corners, unafraid of the humans who had legitimate claim to the property. The city had threatened to condemn the building if the rats could not be kept under control. Within a week of the call, not one rat could be found within a three block area. Buffy refused to kiss Spike until he brushed, rinsed and flossed at least five times a day that week. After the building inspector released the injunction, the owner had offered them the apartment, no deposit and rent free for three months. Half price after that, with the understanding that the rats would not return. The lease was up in their previous place, a dingy first floor hole in the ground. They’d been looking for something that didn’t make Buffy wheeze and gag from the exhaust fumes that seeped in through the not-so-airtight windows. The new apartment, located in one of the city’s many historical districts, would have been much more than they could afford without the generous discount. Buffy resigned herself to buying stock in Crest and Listerine as they carried their heavy furniture up several flights into the spacious new rooms. 

Spike reached for the door of the dance studio. Ox and Tango was printed in gold calligraphy on the glass. Before his fingers could wrap around the handle, the door flew open to reveal a six foot tall arcoris demon with pale iridescent blue skin. His species had mostly been in hiding until the big reveal several years ago. Because they were peaceful, they now walked among the populace without fear of recrimination. The demon’s large, blue eyes sat wide on his face above a slightly patrician nose. A cascade of white curls tumbled over his forehead. He had a generous mouth with full pouty lips, currently lifted at the corners in a welcoming smile. Buffy took note of the additional arms halfway down his torso which motioned them inside. 

“You must be Buffy and Spike! Please, please, come in. I’m Mack, and this,” He swept his arms around the open space. “Is my studio.” 

Two of the walls were covered in mirrors, the wooden floor was polished to a high gloss shine and the remaining wall was painted a rich orange. The overhead lighting was perfectly placed and provided a brightly lit, warm glow throughout the room. The effect was elegant and inviting.

“Interesting name.” Buffy nodded at the door. “It has a poetic ring to it.”

“Thank you. I had such a hard time figuring out what to name my business. Ox is in reference to the Chinese Zodiac the year I was born, 1925. Tango, of course, is my specialty. I do teach other styles, but it's the one most in demand and the one I'm most passionate about.” 

“You were born in 1925?” Buffy asked incredulously.

“Yes, my species is very long lived.”

“As is mine.” Spike grinned.

Buffy elbowed him in the ribs. “Why the Chinese Zodiac?”

“I became enamoured with all things Chinese in my youth. You’ve heard of the Japanese internment camps in the US?”

“Little more posh than what the Nazi’s provided, but yeah.” Spike growled.

“Well, when the government began rounding up people and shipping them off to these camps, my family stepped in to help some friends. The Li’s owned a small business in Chinatown. It wasn’t much, just a little grocery store, but it was all theirs.”

“Weren’t the camps for Japanese people?” Buffy asked.

“Yes, but anyone of Asian descent became a person of interest, if you will. The Li’s were told they had to report to Tanforan. That was the name of the camp set up near San Francisco. They were business owners and respected members of the community, but that didn’t seem to matter. The fact that they were of Asian descent was all the government cared about. At the time, no one knew what went on there and the stories that had filtered in from Europe were horrifying.” 

“You don’t know the half of it.” Spike mumbled under his breath.

Buffy put a hand on his arm and rubbed lightly before clasping his fingers and giving them a quick squeeze. “Spike had some experience with the types of monsters who ran camps during the war. He had to revisit it again several years ago when he was captured by a rogue government agency. What happened to your friends?”

“They came to our house and asked if we would hide their son. His name was Bo Fan. I’d seen him at the store and a few times when my parents had parties, but I never paid much attention. He was human and nearly four years my junior, so he held no interest for me.” Mack chuckled to himself. “All that changed when he came to stay with us. He had just turned thirteen. He was blossoming into manhood - all gangly limbs and awkwardness with a cracking voice to match. Some mornings, I would swear he had grown inches during the night. It was fascinating to me as I’d never seen humans up close on a regular basis. Aside from my scientific curiosity, I discovered he was a quick wit and could debate with me for hours over anything. He gave me a love of the outdoors, which I had previously eschewed, preferring my love of indoor pursuits such as music, reading and dancing. We’d run through the park, climb trees, splash through water like children. Of course, that was during the times when demons like myself stayed hidden, so I taught him how to blend in and fade into the background when needed. It came in handy as his appearance made him one of the hunted during that time.”

Buffy grimaced at Mack’s words. It reminded her of the narrow minded way the Initiative saw all demons. A mindset she’d shared when she first became a slayer. “It sounds like you became best friends.” 

“Oh, we were. Bo means brother in Chinese and that's exactly what we were. I loved him. We may have been different species, but there was a bond between us that couldn't be broken. We were best friends.”

Spike picked up on the sadness in Mack’s voice. “Were?”

“Yes...he… he passed away six months ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. I always knew I would be the one left behind, but it’s still hard when it happens.”

Spike and Buffy shared a look as they bowed their heads.

“Anyway, Bo never married, so he left everything to me. The old family store hadn't been in operation for years. I sold it to the person who owns the place next door. He tore it down a couple months ago and is planning on expanding his own business.” Mack clapped his hands together, suddenly dismissing the melancholic atmosphere that had settled over the trio. “Well, enough of that. And now you know not to ask me any personal questions or I will talk for days. It’s time for class to start! Come this way, meet your classmates.”

Mack stopped at the small group milling around a table covered in finger foods and water bottles. 

“Grab a water, have a snack. Don’t get used to this kind of pampering. After the first class, it’s all about whipping you into shape.” He leaned down and told Spike in a conspiratorial tone. “Sometimes I use actual whips.” Buffy, who was standing close enough to hear the exaggerated stage whisper, stopped in her tracks. Mack threw back his head and laughed heartily. “I’m kidding! But, please excuse me, I have to get the music ready. Our first lesson is about to begin.” 

A pair of gatoa demons stepped up to Buffy as she popped the top of a water bottle and took a long swallow. The couple were both about five feet tall, with matching purple mohawks and leopard spotted skin. Their cat-like ears stood outward from their skull and their slanted eyes enhanced their feline appearance. Buffy idly wondered if they had tails tucked inside their slacks. The one on the right bowed deeply. “Slayer, it’s a pleasure. My mate and I owe you and your consort a debt of gratitude. You saved my aunt from a vampire attack several years ago near Soho. I’m sure you don’t remember, but she hasn’t stopped talking about it since it happened. She tells anyone who will listen. ‘Imagine, a slayer helping a demon.’ But then, she’s used to the old ways of things. She’ll never believe it when I tell her we’re in the same dance class.”

Before Buffy could reply, the ringing sound of a gong came from the front of the room followed by a throat clearing. Everyone turned. Another arcoris demon had joined Mack. They might have been twins save for the coal black hair and deep brown eyes of the second demon. 

“This is my partner, my soulmate, my better half. His name is Dax and he’s a lawyer, but don’t hold that against him.” The students laughed as expected. “You are all here to learn my favorite dance. The tango has always been characterized as highly sensual. It was banned in many places for being too risqué. Of course, that only caused its popularity to increase. Over the years, it has become my specialty. I believe this dance in particular promotes intimacy between partners and enhances one’s sex life. Wouldn’t you agree?” Mack winked.

“He’s a show-off.” Dax rolled his eyes and smiled indulgently. 

“And because I’m a show-off, as mon amore loves to point out, we will now demonstrate the power of the Argentine Tango.” Mack seemed to bounce in place with excitement as he placed one hand on Dax’s shoulder and another in the small of his back. Dax mirrored the pose. Mack used one of his other arms to activate a small remote in his pocket. The music began and the couple moved - slowly at first - their feet sliding across the floor, their bodies close, their eyes locked. Buffy felt Spike’s hand glide down her arm. His fingers traced lazy circles in her palm. She leaned into the solid wall of his chest and felt a quiet vibration against her back as he growled quietly and wrapped his arms around her waist. They watched the elegant couple spin and twirl around the floor, their extra limbs adding sensuality instead of awkwardness to their motion. At no time did their bodies move further apart than the length of their arms. It was a beautiful dance and the two performed it flawlessly. 

“That will be us, my love.” Spike purred into Buffy’s ear. “Can’t wait to hold you against me, feel your body pressed to mine. It will be like making love with our clothes on. Can already tell this gets you hot. Wonder if it will get you as hot as fighting?” Spike nipped lightly at his claim mark on the side of Buffy’s neck causing her to start in surprise. 

It had been two months since he’d used his fangs. Buffy missed the way it felt when he clamped down on her throat, the rush of blood coursing through her veins, filling his open mouth before he swallowed, the lightheaded feeling of rapture as he claimed her with both cock and fangs. She’d been patient since the accident and she hoped his teasing nibble meant he was finally ready to move forward.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled away from his tight embrace to help quell the hot rush of desire his teeth had caused when they’d scraped across her skin. “Spike...we’re not alone.” 

Spike’s tongue flicked against her ear. “Mmm, not yet, but I’m gonna see if we can stay after class. Maybe we can practice the moves we learn after we suss things out.”

Buffy tilted her head. Spike was no longer watching the couple on the floor. His eyes were riveted to her face. The clear blue orbs shining under the lights of the studio, his pupils black and dilated. He tightened his hold, pulling her back, flush with his chest. She felt the hard bulge of his erection and she bit back a moan as he quickly ground his hips.

The music stopped and Buffy pulled away from the hardness that was Spike. Mack and Dax executed a double bow. 

“This dance may seem like something impossible to achieve, but I promise by the end of your lessons, each of you will have mastered the basics. Now, please bid a fond adieu to Dax. He must take his leave at this time.” Dax leaned over, whispered something into Mack’s ear and kissed his cheek before waving to the class.

"Okay then, let’s begin.”

Within an hour of starting the class, Buffy was beginning to tire, which was surprising with her background in ice skating, gymnastics, cheerleading and more years of slaying than she cared to remember. 

Music had been playing quietly in the background, but no dancing took place as Mack made sure every couple had perfect hand placement and their shoulders were held square before turning his attention to their feet, moving a heel to the right or toes to the left, asking each couple to flex their knees as they twirled, directing them to practice before moving to the next pair. Buffy and Spike had always been perfectly aligned when fighting together. When they went dancing at a club, they moved as one, their bodies perfectly matched. Unfortunately, Mack’s idea of synchronicity was not the same as Buffy’s. She was fuming mad. She kept muttering under her breath about how Mack was actually an evil demon and it was Spike’s fault her calves ached and he was so giving her a foot rub when they got home and feeding her ice cream in bed. 

“You did this!” She hissed when Mack turned his attention to another couple after correcting Buffy’s stance once more. 

“Did what, Pet?” 

“You, you … made up a case to get me here and now you’re laughing because this is torture! He probably does have whips!”

“Buffy, I swear I didn’t. Besides,” he rumbled into her neck, “the only one who gets to whip you is me.” Spike glanced around the room “Wonder where he keeps them anyway?”

“Oh, no you don’t! You don’t get to say things like that and use those lips and that voice right now!”

“What voice is that?”

“That one, the sexy one that makes me… you know, what, shut up, I’m not talking to you right now.”

Spike chuckled.

“Just...do that arm thingy he keeps griping about so we can start dancing already. Apparently, the next thing we get to do is move our hips properly.”

“You already know exactly how to move your hips, luv.” He bumped his hip against her in emphasis.

“Spike!”

He couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face as Buffy’s cheeks turned bright red. “Still make you blush after all these years, don’t I?”

“Stop that!”

“Stop what now, Slayer?”

“Smiling and looking at me.”

“I have to look at you, pet. It’s the tango.” 

“Well, quit it. You’re distracting me with your eyes.” Buffy growled. 

Spike guffawed, drawing the attention of their instructor. She actually growled. God, she’s cute. 

“Ah, my prize pupils. What is the problem?”

Buffy pointed at Spike accusingly. “He keeps looking at me...with his eyes, and… and… talking... with his...voice!”

Mack glanced at Spike in confusion. He shrugged and tried to look innocent. Something he seemed to easily accomplish by a slight grin and tipping his head so his clear blue eyes shone brightly under his dark lashes. 

Buffy glared at him and growled again. “See!?”

Mack patted Buffy’s arm. “Oh, mon chérie, this is the Argentine Tango. The eyes are part of the dance. You caress each other as you glide across the floor. Your bodies in tune, you lean into an embrace, your eyes gazing deep into your hearts. The way you touch, every movement is a declaration of love. You love him, yes?”

“Completely. evenwhenhesanass.” 

“Then soon, you will surpass your teacher. This will be as easy as breathing. Show me your form again.”

Buffy reached for Spike, who pulled her flush against him and lifted his elbows the way he’d been shown. 

“Ah, very nice, but this form of dance requires some space between your hips most of the time. Here," He grabbed Spike's shoulders and pulled him back. "I know it seems more natural to press yourselves together, but you must learn to use the spaces you create. As you improve, you will begin to instinctively feel when to bridge the gap." Mack sighed. "You really do make the most beautiful couple. You will be the stars of the recital.”

“Recital?!” Buffy squeaked before turning her panicked gaze towards Spike, who suddenly seemed to find the recessed lighting on the ceiling to be the most fascinating thing in the room. 

“Yes, this is one of the classes that always ends with a recital. It is a way to show the world what you’ve learned. Now dear, I noticed you keep dropping your shoulder.” Mack placed a hand on Buffy’s elbow, lifted slightly and adjusted her frame. “Much better.” 

Buffy gritted her teeth as Mack walked away. “Not a word, Spike! Not. One. Word.”

After class was over, Buffy and Spike sat down with Mack to go over any details that might help with their investigation. 

“Since no one knows where they are losing things, how can you be sure it’s happening here?” Spike asked.

“Some of the students in previous classes were comparing notes and they realized they had all lost something valuable within hours of leaving. I was devastated to learn that my studio was the common factor behind the thefts.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “They are most definitely thefts?”

“It's the only thing that makes sense.”

Spike stood up, offering Buffy his hand. “We’ll take a look around the perimeter. You lock up and leave like any other night. We’ll stay for a bit. See if anything happens after you’re gone.”

“Thank you both so much! As much as I want you to solve the mystery immediately, if that does happen, I hope you’ll continue with my class. I see so much potential. I wasn’t kidding about being the stars. You would shine!” Mack reached into his pocket, pulled out a set of keys and quickly removed one from the ring. “This is to the front door. We’ll leave together. When you’re done outside, you’ll be able to let yourselves back in. I have a spare at home, so keep that one until this is sorted.”

Spike and Buffy strolled around the block, finding nothing out of the ordinary. They decided to look around inside before making their way to the alley in back. Buffy shifted her feet as Spike unlocked the door and they stepped into the darkened room. The streetlights shown through the front windows bathing the room in ambient light that faded towards the far end. Spike locked the door and quickly ran to the opposite side of the room. He spun around and faced Buffy.

“Perfect place to spar, innit?” He grinned.

Buffy returned his smile. “Except we’d probably break the mirrors.” 

“Never know unless we take the chance.” He began stalking towards her, his movements slow and deliberate.

Buffy could feel her heart begin to race at the prospect of sparring with her mate in such a beautiful, controlled environment. The last time they’d been able to let loose was more than two years ago when they visited Giles in Scotland and took over the slayer training yard one evening. “I don’t think this is part of the job description, Spike.”

“Call it a perk.” He quickly toed off his boots and tossed them into a corner. “C’mon, baby, give it to me, or are you afraid I’ll beat you?”

Buffy never took her eyes off him as she unzipped her boots and tossed them next to Spike’s. “Oh, you cocky vampire! You’re asking for it now.”

Spike shifted into game face. “Bring it, Slayer!”

Buffy's laugh echoed in the empty room as she launched herself towards Spike. He dodged her attack by feigning right, then ducking under her swinging arm. He stood up and spun around as she tucked and rolled, springing around to face him. They circled each other warily. Buffy moved forward with her arm swinging in a wide arc. When her fist connected with Spike’s jaw, his fangs cut her knuckles and blood began to drip down her hand. His eyes took on a feral gleam as he retaliated with a kick to her side. Time lost all meaning as they punched, kicked and spun their way across the floor, their deadly dance beautiful in its violence. Spike froze as he caught a glimpse of Buffy’s form reflected in the mirrors. She was leaping up, her right leg extended and her left tucked back, the kick aimed directly at his head. He hit the floor hard and made no move to rise. 

Buffy turned back to see him sitting up on his elbows, staring at the mirror. “Spike? Are you okay?” 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered to mirror Buffy.

Real Buffy planted her legs on either side of him and nudged his thigh with her foot.

Mirror Buffy leaned forward, stretching out her right arm, hovering inches from the floor.

Real Buffy grabbed his hand.

Mirror Buffy stood, her arm fell to her side before she tilted her head and opened her mouth.

Real Buffy nibbled his ear and whispered. “Distractions can be deadly. Pay attention!” She pushed him hard and dove at his knees. He tore his eyes away from the mirror and ran. 

They spared in silence, their pounding feet and slapping fists echoing in the empty room. Their bodies moved without thought, spinning and twirling, flexing and jumping on instinct. Each of them knowing the limits the other could take. Pulling punches and tempering kicks, yet never yielding the upper hand. When Spike spun around on his heel, diving low instead of kicking high as Buffy expected, she landed flat on her back. The air left her lungs in a rush. Spike’s concerned human features filled her vision as she struggled to breathe. 

“God, Buffy, I’m sorry. Try to relax, helps your lungs expand.” He brushed her hair from her face. “Didn’t think I hit you so hard."

She shook her head and gasped. “Not you...was floor.” She smacked her hand down on the hardwood surface. 

Spike relaxed at her little quip. “Want me to beat it up for you?”

She grinned as her breathing slowly returned to normal. “My hero.”

“Not feelin’ very heroic, luv. Second time I’ve hurt you in as many months.”

Buffy sat up on her elbows. “Spike, you didn’t hurt me, I just got the wind knocked out of me. No big deal.”

“Yeah, but last time, I coulda killed you.”

“There is no way that would have happened. None.”

He touched the bite mark on the side of her throat, the scar was larger than his original claim. “Could happen though.”

Buffy finished sitting up and put her hands on the sides of Spike’s face. She brushed a fingertip across his lip. “No, it couldn’t. It was an accident. We fell off the bed.”

“Shoulda felt it. Known we were about to take a tumble, let go of you, but I didn’t and…” 

\----------

Spike remembered the terror he had felt when Buffy’s skin had ripped through his teeth as they toppled off the side of the bed. He frantically covered the wound with his hands, tearing the sheets from the bed, pressing them against the gash; hard enough to stop the flow of blood, but gentle enough not to crush her windpipe. He was panicking, but Buffy lay still, her eyes full of love and complete trust. Unable to think coherently, he desperately pleaded. “Buffy, baby, I’m sorry, don’t leave me, please, god, can’t do this without you. Stop, make it stop!” 

“Spike, sweetheart? Use your tongue.” 

“FUCK!” He roared at his own stupidity. He tore the bloody sheet away, kissing and licking the jagged laceration until the bleeding stopped. 

Buffy calmly reassured him. “I’m fine, Spike. It wasn’t even that much blood.”

She put her arms around his shaking form. He was panting as if he’d run a marathon.

“I’m sure it looks worse than it is. Really. Spike, it was an accident. It doesn’t even hurt. See?” Buffy touched the side of her neck where a scab had already formed. 

Spike shook his head. He couldn’t seem to hear her words. He was frozen, locked in his own mind. He kept seeing a horrific flash of Buffy lying at the bottom of Glory’s tower overlain by the image of her life’s blood draining from her neck on their bedroom floor. Powerless to do anything but cry, he gathered her into his arms, rocking her against his chest. 

The next day, after picking up groceries and checking on a couple clients, Buffy found Spike, empty bottle in hand, staggering before their fireplace in nothing but a pair of jeans; his hair a tousled mess. When she whispered his name, a soft question on her lips, he smashed the empty bottle into the grating and pointed at the remains of the bedding. He’d burned everything. Buffy said nothing as she pulled him to the couch where he lay in her lap and finally relaxed with his hands curled into loose fists and his face pressed against her thighs. She brushed his curls with her fingers as she watched the bright embers of fire dwindle to ash.

\----------

Spike shook his head when he felt the gentle caress of her lips on his.

“Spike, my love, please, we have to move past this.”

“Buffy…”

“No, listen.” She pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. “It was an accident. You didn't mean to hurt me. If we're being completely honest, I've hurt you worse.” She touched his chest. “In here. What’s worse is, I meant it. I broke you. I hurt you so much. I’m amazed you could even look at me after some of the things I said and did. I know why you didn't believe me the first time I said, I love you. And as much as it hurt, I know why you didn't come find me when you returned." Spike started to protest, but Buffy put a finger to his lips to silence him once again. “If we didn’t push through painful things in the past, we wouldn't be together now. I can’t imagine my life without you. I trust you with all my heart, Spike. I know you think it was your fault, but it was nothing. Please, Spike. I miss the way it feels when your fangs sink into my neck. I miss the hot rush of my blood pouring into your mouth, coating your tongue and filling your belly. I miss the way it feels when you’re pumping hard and you bite me as I start to come. When you’re ready again, I want all of you. I want you to take my throat with your beautiful demon mouth while your cock drives deep inside, filling me up and making me touch the closest thing to heaven on Earth I can imagine.” 

“Buffy…”

She leaned forward, running her tongue along her own mark on his neck. “How long have we been together?” 

“My heart says forever.”

“Nothing like that has happened before and we’ve renewed our claim hundreds of times. We will renew it hundreds... no, thousands more.” She smiled as his eyes widened. “I love you, Spike.” She reached down and unbuttoned his trousers, pulling the zipper apart, feeling the hardness of his prick as it fell into her hand and she squeezed. “Let me love you.” Buffy pulled the soft material of his trousers down his legs, her mouth worshiping his skin as she uncovered him to her hungry gaze. She left his socks on and worked her way up his thighs, spreading them apart, kneeling between his legs, leaning forward and swallowing him with her mouth. His body lay pliant under her hands as his cock pressed hard into the back of her throat. She caressed his heavy balls, feeling them tighten in her grip. She lifted her head, gliding her lips slowly up his shaft, lingering at the tip, tonguing his slit. She slipped one hand under his shirt, pinching his nipples in quick succession while taking his foreskin into her mouth and stretching it gently away from his shaft with her teeth. 

Spike bucked his hips and groaned. “God, Buffy, gonna kill me.”

“Thought you liked the little death?” She teased as she pulled his legs further apart and kissed his inner thigh. She ran her tongue around the base of his dick before sucking one of his balls into her mouth. 

“Bloody hell!”

“Mmmm, nuts. My favorite.” Buffy’s throaty chuckle sent vibrations through Spike’s groin and he writhed against her mouth. 

“Jesus, fuck! Slayer! You’re amazing! Want to be inside you. Wanna feel your hot quim around my tongue. Can smell you. Turn around.”

Buffy turned, placing her knees on either side of Spike’s face. She felt her skirt being pushed up her hips and Spike’s hands on the waistband of her sensible black underwear. 

“These have GOT to go!” He tore them completely in half down the crack of her ass before shredding the leg holes and tossing the scraps. He pulled her towards his mouth and plunged his tongue inside. “Ahh, ambrosia.” He greedily licked and sucked her folds then thrust his tongue back inside, tasting and teasing her inner walls, pressing against the bundle of nerves with the tip. He held her hips tight against him while rubbing her clit with his fingers. 

Buffy opened her throat, swallowing his cock and burying her face in his balls. She teased a finger around the tight bud of his ass before dipping inside. She felt Spike jerk beneath her. She pulled her mouth away slowly before sliding back down. Buffy could feel his hips shake and his balls contract with every motion. She twisted her finger as she pulled her mouth away. She could feel his release coming hard and fast. She knew her own would follow just as quickly. With more willpower than she knew she possessed, she released him with a groan and pulled away from Spike’s tongue.

“Want you like this.” Buffy said as she flipped around, straddling him. She lifted herself up, positioning him at her opening before sliding onto his cock. Spike wrapped his fingers around her hips and began thrusting.

“Oh, Buffy, my goddess. Love you, love fucking you, love what you do to me.”

“Yes, Spike, yes! Harder! I love you!” She pulled herself against his chest, regretting the fabric of their shirts as a barrier to the cool flesh of his chest against her own. Buffy looked into his eyes, a small ring of midnight blue around his dilated pupils in the dim light. She slowed her frantic movements as she ran her tongue over his lips, ripe and full with desire, still moist with her own tangy sweetness, she bent her head to taste herself on his lips. Her tongue slipped inside and she teased the pocket of skin where his fangs lay dormant, coaxing them to emerge. She could feel him fighting the demon, but she continued to lick and stroke as they rocked together until she could feel the needle sharp tips begin to protrude. Buffy felt the first rush of liquid gather low, pausing in expectation, waiting to drench his cock. She lifted her mouth, pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along his neck. Her hands cupped his head. She lazily skimmed her tongue over the claim mark on Spike’s neck. She felt his cock swell and she began to clench tighter around him, feeling her climax rise as the tide. As she bit through Spike’s skin, she felt him change. Spike’s forehead pressed against her shoulder and his fangs rested lightly against her skin. Buffy sucked greedily, filling herself with the coppery taste of his blood. "Mine, you're mine."

"Yours!" Spike roared, flipped her over and with a deep thrust, he came apart. "You're mine, Buffy. All mine, forever!"

"Yes, Spike. Yours, always yours." Buffy arched her back and turned her neck in supplication. She felt herself shudder as he bit down. It took a moment before she realized he was using his human teeth and the bite wasn’t strong enough to break the skin. Counting this as a huge step forward, Buffy smiled in contentment as Spike rolled over, pulling her against his chest. After several moments, she heard him sigh.

“Sorry, baby.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for, that was incredible!”

“Always is.” he smirked. “I know you wanted more though.”

Buffy sat up, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “Spike, I will always want you, but you have to be a willing participant. We both do. We know how things can feel when one of us isn’t ready for something.” 

Spike bent his head and kissed the knuckles on her wounded hand. He cleaned the dried blood from the cuts that had been made at the beginning of their sparring session. 

Buffy’s eyes rolled and she fell back to the floor as the sensual feeling of his tongue slipping over the hard ridges of her knuckles brought a fresh flush of desire. “We’re never going to finish before morning if you keep that up.”

Spike bent to kiss her, but stopped abruptly. He dropped her hand, cocking his head to the side. 

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "What is it?”

“Shhh, I hear something.” Spike stood up and stalked towards the backdoor, his pale legs and perfect ass lighting his progress like a beacon in the dark. 

Buffy scooped up his trousers and followed, silently handing him the garment, then admiring the way his muscles flexed as he bent to pull them on.

“Think it’s coming from the other side of the door. Sounds like a big dog or something.” He slipped the lock and slid the deadbolt to the side. “Step back. We don't know what’s out there.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Really?”

“Know you can take care of yourself, pet. Still should use caution, yeah?”

Buffy knew he was right and moved near his shoulder as he eased open the door. She immediately placed herself in a crouch, ready to attack.

Two huge beasts stood near the entrance, they tossed their heads, sending puffs of steam into the night as they shook themselves with what seemed to be excitement. They had powerful jaws, with gleaming metal fangs. They stood on four thick legs and the tops of their heads reached Buffy’s shoulders. Golden wings flanked their sides and their bodies were covered in silver fur. They were identical, except one of the creatures had two large horns protruding from the back of its skull, the other had only one. They pawed at the ground. Buffy raised her hands into fists, readying herself to charge.

“Stop, Slayer! They won’t hurt us.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve seen them before, in China. They are called pixiu. They are blessed creatures. Guardians of wealth and home. They protect their owners simply by existing within a structure. I’ve never known them to wander.” Spike tentatively reached for one of the animals. It huffed loudly and stepped closer. 

Buffy snatched his hand back. “Spike, don’t!”

“Not everything is as it seems, luv.” He grinned as he flashed his yellow eyes in her direction and turned back to the two pixiu. He held out a hand, palm up and allowed the two giants to sniff. They both sat back on their haunches and watched Spike with wide eyes waiting to see what he would do next. He touched one on the flank where the wing attached to the body. It rumbled deep in its chest, turned its head and bumped against Spike’s side.

Buffy giggled nervously. “They’re like big cats. Kinda remind me of you.”

“C’mere.” Spike notioned for Buffy to join him. He guided her hand to the other creature’s side. 

“Oh!” Buffy exclaimed in surprise. “It’s warm.” She smiled as she continued pet the beast. It turned its nose into her palm and licked the gold band on her ring finger. When she moved her hand away, the creature took her wrist into its mouth and held it between its jaws. When she tried to pull her hand free, the gentle pressure increased. “Uh, Spike? I think it wants to eat me.”

“Has good taste, don’t it?”

“Spike! Be serious! I can live without a hand, but I really don’t want to.”

“I think we found the source of the mysterious jewelry disappearances.”

“So, it wants my wedding band? Why?” 

“Near as I can remember, they live in pairs. One gathers wealth, the other guards it. Since they seem to be homeless, they are confused. Think he wants to take your gold, give it to his mate here so she can guard it.”

"But, it's mine and how do you know he's a he?"

"Cuz, he's the one gathering. This sweet one is the lady, aren't you, beautiful?" Spike scratched her chin.

"She sure seems to like you." 

"What's not to like?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Maybe you can ask her to tell her mate this is my wedding ring and no one takes it off but me."

"Would, pet, but I don't speak pixiu."

"You're ever so helpful, vampire who speaks forty thousand different human and demon languages except the one that will get this overgrown tinkerbell mutt to let go of my hand." Buffy turned to the creature. “No! This is mine." She pointed to the gold band. "Drop it.”

Spike chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Like that’s going to work.”

A moment later, the animal opened its mouth, releasing Buffy’s hand.

“Huh… guess I was wrong.”

“I’ve always had a way with demons.” 

“They’re not demons. They’re magical though and I have an idea why they are here.”

“Why is that?” Buffy scratched her pixiu under the chin.

“Remember when Mack was telling us about his friend, Bo?”

“Yeah.”

“They belonged to Bo and his family. Probably lived in the old store we were told about. When Bo died, they became Mack’s property and when the building was demolished, they had nowhere to go. I’m sure they found their way here and have been waiting to be found.”

“Uh, so what do we do? We can’t just let two giant lion-dog-dragon things into Mack’s dance studio.”

“That’s exactly what we are going to do, Slayer.” Spike motioned the two pixiu ahead of him while Buffy rolled her eyes.

“How do you know they really belong to Mack?”

“Told me, didn’t they?” Spike answered, following the beasts inside.

“What? Spike! You said you didn’t speak their language, but you’ve been talking to them the whole time? Argh, you’re such an annoying vampire!”

He tucked his tongue behind his teeth and grinned. “Yeah, and you love me.”

“God help me, I do.” She muttered under her breath as she shut the door to the alley and over to Mack’s office to use the phone.

It was an easy process to get the two pixiu to give up the jewels they’d taken. According to Spike’s translation, they thought the people and demons they’d taken things from were stealing from Mack. They were simply guarding their master’s wealth. They seemed suitably chagrined when told of their mistake. Their proud heads dipped in a silent plea. Mack and Dax praised them for their thoughtfulness and proactive thinking reassuring the pair there was nothing to forgive. All the pilfered jewels were returned to their owners and the two pixiu settled into the protective role in their new home. During the day, they stood statue-still inside the front entrance on opulent wooden platforms that had been constructed for them. At night, they had the run of the studio. 

Buffy and Spike continued to enjoy the tango classes. As Mack predicted, they were gifted with natural talent and moved across the floor as if they’d been born to it. A week before the recital, which was to take place at the nearby Bill Graham Civic Auditorium, Mack and Dax invited the couple for dinner at their home.

“Mmm, very nice.” Spike held up his glass of scotch, swirling the amber liquid in the bottom of the glass and lifting it to his nose. “Everything is going well with the pixiu, then?” 

“Oh yes! This upcoming recital is going to help raise so much for the demon/human homeless shelter and I’m booked months in advance for classes. I’m sure part of it is their influence, but once word got out that the Sunnydale Slayer and William the Bloody were going to showcase what they'd learned under my tutelage, tickets to the event sold like wildfire. There won’t be an empty seat in the house. Come on, you handsome vampire, help me clear the table.”

Buffy groaned. “Ugh, I’m so not ready for this. I feel sick.”

Dax patted her on the back. “You’ll be perfect. I felt the same way the first time Mack made me dance with him in front of a crowd. Just keep your eyes on Spike and follow each other. I’ve seen you practice. You two light up the room.”

“Thank you, Dax. That really does help. Spike is confident, but I’m afraid I’ll fall into the orchestra pit or something equally embarrassing.”

Spike hollered from the kitchen where he was helping Mack with dishes. “Oi, Slayer, don’t trust me to lead you? I’d never let you take a tumble...well not without me.” 

“See what I have to put up with? Superior vampire hearing means I can’t have a conversation that’s private.” Buffy raised her voice on the last word.

Hearing Mack and Spike both chuckling from the kitchen, Dax smiled. “You two seem very happy.”

“Oh, we are. It took us a while to get here, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything. He’s my other half.”

“I feel the same about Mack.” Dax took a sip of wine and looked back at Buffy. “I know those mystical creatures are a blessing to us, but the truth is, I always felt as if our lives were full of riches because we had each other. We both miss Bo terribly, but having the same pixiu that guarded his family for years makes us feel as if his spirit is still with us. And now, counting you two in our circle of friends, our lives can only get better.”

Mack breezed back in the room, wiping his hands on his slacks. “You are both jewels, that is certainly true.”

“Ya hear that, pet? I’m a jewel.”

With uncharacteristic sincerity, Buffy replied. “You really are, Spike. Rare and beautiful and shining with light.”

Spike stopped in his tracks. She never speaks like this in front of others. She always saves words like these for times when we're alone. “Oh, Buffy...I…” He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat.

“Me too.” She said as he reached for her hand and pulled her from the chair into his arms. 

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” Mack exclaimed. “You two radiate love. This is going to be the best performance ever!”

That night as they lay in bed, their sweat-slick bodies fused together in the aftermath of their love, Spike kissed Buffy on the shoulder and asked, "Why so public with the words tonight, pet? Not that I'm complaining."

"I spent way too many years denying you. Then, I spent more time pretending you weren’t the most important person in my life. I never say the things I really feel unless we're alone because I’m a coward. I know how much it means to you when I publicly say how much I love you. I rarely do it and I'm sorry, Spike. It's a bad habit and one I'm ready to break."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah, that's right. Say hello to sentimental, mushy Buffy."

"Does that mean kinky, tie-me-up Buffy is on vacation?" Spike held up the long, thick length of silken cord that had become their jouet du jour.

Buffy giggled and reached for the rope. She wrapped it around her wrists before presenting them back to Spike to finish the knots. "Of course not. It just means you'll have to get used to me being as sappy as you are."

"I’m not sappy!" Spike tugged a quick knot into the rope and looped it over the bed post. 

“Yes you are. You’re my wonderful, sappy demon poet and I love you.”

“Love you too, my sassy-mouthed warrior.”

Buffy’s arms stretched over her head and she arched her back as Spike’s mouth came down on her nipples, his tongue swirling around the tips. Spike put his palms flat on her stomach, marveling at how tiny she actually was. How much power lay in her small frame. How much trust the fierce warrior, his slayer, gave to the deadly predator poised between her legs.  
For once, the sappy poet inside was unable to express his love and gratitude in words so he bent his head and spread her thighs. He used his tongue and his fingers to bring her over the edge before plunging inside her pulsating walls with his cock, hard and ready. Bruising her hips with his own as he pounded out the rhythm of his love and claimed her mouth with his, tasting the tangy sweetness of her, mingled with the spicy hot flavor of her tongue. Afterwards, they lay fully satiated, tangled together in damp sheets and silken ties until the warm sunlight filtered through the curtains announcing the day. 

The evening of the performance arrived. Spike tried to soothe Buffy’s nerves with soft words and gentle touches, but she seemed unable to still her hands as she paced backstage where they watched, congratulating their classmates as each couple completed their dance and found their seats for the remainder of the show. 

Buffy was wearing a simple black gown with thin straps. Her hair was pulled into a loose chignon at the base of her neck. She wore simple heels to complete the look. Spike was dressed in a black tuxedo, his slicked back hair nearly matching his crisp, white shirt. Buffy waved her hands in front of her face trying to cool the hot blush that had risen when she’d peeked around the edge of the curtain. “Eight thousand people?! Eight THOUSAND? Oh my god, Spike. I can’t dance in front of eight thousand people.”

Mack glided into the room as Spike was running his cool fingers over Buffy’s neck. “It’s actually 8,500. I told you we’d sell out! Are you ready? It’s time for your debut.”

“Oh, god!” Buffy put a hand over her face and ran towards the bathroom.

Spike shook his head. “Not the best idea, mate.”

“How was I supposed to know she’d get stage fright so badly? She’s the original slayer. She’s led troops into battle countless times, she’s been fighting evil for years. Everyone knows who she is. She’s famous.”

“Deep down, she’s still the same girl who had hopes of becoming an ice dancer. I imagine this is a dream come true in a way. Probably didn’t see herself with a partner on stage when she was skimming the ice, but we’ll make do.”

Buffy walked back into the room, her face still flushed, but no longer tinged with a greenish hue. “I can’t imagine doing this by myself or with anyone else. I love dancing with you, Spike. Once upon a lifetime ago, you said it was all we’d ever done. I think it’s time to show the world how beautiful we are together.” She smiled and nodded at Mack. “I’m ready.”

Mack stepped into the spotlight on the stage. His pale glimmering skin lit up under the glow and seemed to shine with an inner light.

"Kinda sparkly, ain't he?"

"Spike…"

"Reminds me of Twilight."

"Spike!"

"Sparkles look poncy on vampires, but on him it looks good."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

After thanking everyone for coming to the evening's performance, Mack began his introduction. “It is my great pleasure to introduce the final couple of the evening. The two of them have shaped the world we live in. Without them the beauty we all take for granted would have been lost. They have changed things for the better. Peaceful demons no longer have to hide in the shadows or cover themselves with glamour. We are no longer afraid to live our best lives and that’s a wonderful thing. The Sunnydale Slayer and William the Bloody make our streets safer for all peaceful citizens of San Francisco. Their love story will go down in history as one of the greatest ever told, be it fact or fiction. Tonight we celebrate their passion as they share with us the beauty of the Argentine Tango. Ladies and gentlemen of all races - may I present to you - Buffy and Spike - the slayer and the vampire.” 

The tight grip she had on Spike’s hand was the only sign of Buffy’s nervousness as the curtain rose and a rush of applause filled her ears. Buffy turned from the sea of faces and focused on Spike, her eyes seeing only him, letting all else fade away.

The first notes of their song flew into the air on the wings of applause. Spike stepped in front of Buffy. The audience saw only the vampire - the slayer hidden behind his broader form. As the violins began to play, Buffy’s hand snaked around his waist and traced its way up his torso. He covered her hand briefly before she moved in front of him and leaned against his chest. His right hand dipped low, his fingers tracing lightly, almost indecently, over her pelvic bones. Buffy’s breath caught in her throat and she turned in his arms. Their eyes locked and the dance began. Hands glided, gently, slowly, sensually as they spun across the floor in short steps. When they reached the edge of the stage, Spike trailed his fingertips down the side of Buffy’s arm, barely grazing her breast. He could feel heat radiating from her core and catching the scent of her musk, he growled before spinning her away. Perfectly mirroring each other, the two of them moved as one. The air became charged as they twirled and spun, hands caressed, hips twisted, pressed together, pulled apart, the choreography of the dance long forgotten as they lost themselves in each other. Lips touched in a fleeting kiss, hands slid low. The audience long forgotten as their dance continued. Buffy drew her leg to Spike's shoulder, his face turned into her core for a split second before she slid back down and ground her hips against his thigh. They moved apart and glided across the floor once again, their hips rocking and twisting to the music. Their faces centimeters apart, their lips parted, their breath coming in short gasps as their eyes remained fixed on each other. The high, lilting chords of the music filled the room, pressed against the walls, pulsated, vibrated, pulling tighter than a bowstring about to snap. The passion radiating from the couple on stage was as tangible as fire, their movements as sharp as ice, as hot as the sun. The air around them seemed to shimmer as the music rose to a crescendo and hung in the air, suspended above the couple on stage. Buffy heard the crack of bone as Spike pulled her flush against him. Her beautiful demon on display. Spike was staring down at her, his yellow eyes wide with desire. His back was to the audience, who were surging to their feet as the final notes wove through the room and settled. “Mine." The single word tumbled from his lips like a prayer. 

“Always.” Buffy tipped her neck in supplication. A roar of praise filled her ears. Buffy wasn’t sure if the sound was her own, her lover’s, or the voices of those who watched, enraptured with the display of raw hunger being played out before them. Buffy felt a sharp sting on her throat and the pull of blood flowing through her veins, the demon’s desire claiming her once again. Heat exploded through her in a rush. Her eyes drifted shut and she fell back, bending her knees and spreading her arms wide as he drank. 

It was seconds, but it could have been years before she opened her eyes to see twin pools of blue staring at her with adoration. Without taking his eyes from hers, Spike pulled her to her feet and fell to his knees, head bowed before her. Buffy ran her fingers through his tightly gelled curls. When he turned his face back towards hers, she tugged him up and threw her arms around him, crushing her lips to his as he spun her around. 

Mack stood in the wings, tears streaming from his face, wildly applauding with the rest of the crowd. Of course, they didn't stick to the choreography. He’d had a feeling they wouldn’t. Their dance was wild and free. Uninhibited and unconventional. It didn’t conform to any known rule and because of that, it was perfect. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He wiped his eyes with a free hand and turned to Dax. “I may as well retire now. Nothing will ever top this.”


End file.
